


Heart's Home

by FandomN00b



Series: Gifts and Prompts [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Dalish Courtship, F/F, Kinda, Merrill is improvising, fluffiest fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:35:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26288092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomN00b/pseuds/FandomN00b
Summary: Merrill wants to welcome Isabela home from her latest high-seas adventure with a romantic evening and an important gesture, but Isabela's back early, and Merrill is kind of a nervous wreck.
Relationships: Isabela/Merrill (Dragon Age)
Series: Gifts and Prompts [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636435
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Heart's Home

**Author's Note:**

> In response to a prompt from the most lovely [eranehn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eranehn/pseuds/Eranehn/works): "Let's see, for FandomN00b more Merribela!!! Isabela is fking tired of everything, and Merrill wonders if it's bad timing to give her the gift when she gets back. Does she give it anyway?"
> 
> Prior related Merribela fluff in this world state:  
> [Soft and Warm](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22602388) (in which Merrill realizes she's in love with the goddess of Generosity)  
> [A Gift for Generosity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25157437) (in which Merrill panic-buys the gift she's about to give in this drabble)

“Dread Wolf, take it!” Merrill mutters, frantically searching for the little trinket she had nearly forgotten about until it had clinked against some other clinky thing she had shoved into the bottom of her pack earlier this afternoon as she made her way home from the market, weighed down by two whole armfuls of fresh groceries for dinner. 

She wants it to be special -- candles, flowers, everything she can imagine a romantic dinner ought to be! And even though she’s never understood the rules of table-scaping the way Hawke’s mother used to try and explain them whenever she offered to help set up for one or another of her fancy parties, she’s fairly certain that the little ship she’s only now remembered buying in a panic back in Denerim would make the perfect centerpiece, reflecting the dancing lights of the candles, almost like water lapping at the tiny, trapped vessel, surrounded by the bouquets of dried herbs and blossoms Merrill has been impulsively collecting since her heart left...like clouds, or the parts of the map that grow, rooted, steadily upwards toward the sky, bobbing and swaying in ways that don’t make her sick.

But Isabela has already returned, a few hours earlier than Merrill expected, from a rather unsuccessful journey by the look of it. Merrill doesn’t need to ask for details to read the weariness on her face, the lines she plans to smooth over with sweet kisses later, after her heart has been fed and properly fussed over. Isabela will pretend she doesn’t need this kind of attention, but Merrill knows better now. She knows how much she appreciates a gentler, kinder sort of love, too.

She looks back behind her at the beautiful woman slumped in a chair, staring up at the ceiling as she throws back the last of the glass of rum she wordlessly poured for herself when she came breezing in through the door. 

Isabela sighs, _finally_ signalling her return. Until now, her heart has still been drifting somewhere in the deep, dark waves of the sea.

When things have gone well, Generosity returns, bursting from the sea in jubilant golden celebration, sharing her wealth and warmth and love with everyone. She is glorious, then, and Merrill considers it a blessing simply to bask in the light of her.

But when things have gone poorly, she gets Generosity all to herself. She is Hubris and she is Greed, apparently, especially when it comes to her vhenan, because she enjoys these moments, too. Quiet evenings, wrapped together, rooted to one another...it is in these moments that Merrill finds herself most deserving of Isabela’s miraculous love. And tonight, she has decided, she is going to give her the ship.

If she can find it.

“I’m sorry, Kitten. I just don’t think I feel like going out tonight. Not a whole lot to celebrate...the lead we had on the slavers ended up being a total bust.”

“That’s okay!” she squeaks, “I already got stuff for dinner…”

“You don’t have to cook for me,” Isabela sighs. “We can go grab something…” Though the thought of showing her face anywhere, so decidedly _un_ -victorious is not a welcome one.

“I want to.”

Isabela turns to look at her, to admire her, the sweetest thing she has ever known, she thinks. And Merrill resumes rummaging around in her pack, cheeks turning pink at the sudden attention. 

“What are you looking for?” Isabela asks to try and save her from the embarrassment of being adored.

“Nothing! Well... _something_! But it’s…” Merrill looks up hopelessly. “Oh, I meant for it to be a surprise!”

“Well, it still will be if you don’t tell me.”

“It’s just that...do you remember when we were in Denerim a few months ago?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I bought it then. It’s really silly. But I just thought...” Merrill can feel her idea of an intimate evening, complete with the romantic gesture she’d intended when she’d bought the cursed thing, slipping away the more she tries to explain.

But Isabela smiles, warm and patient. “You bought me a gift?”

Merrill nods, almost apologetically. “It’s not just a gift. It was meant to be -- well, I know you’re not Dalish. And neither am I, really, _anymore_ …”

Isabela has stood up and is making her way across the room toward Merrill and the growing pile of things she’s pulled out of her pack -- a ball of twine, a rock, a pair of scissors, a little book of paper, and a tiny vial of dried elfroot. 

“But we... _they_ do this _thing_.”

“Last I knew, gift-giving was not a practice solely reserved for the Dalish.” Isabela laughs.

“Yes, but this is more like an official sort of...well, there's these stages to it, and, and…" She's shaking her head. She knows she's stammering like a fool. She should have had it all ready. The table set. The food done. If only she hadn't gotten distracted on the way back by the little white moth who’d led her absentmindedly into the courtyard garden of some noble estate. Courtyard. Ship-in-a-bottle. Court...ship...

" _Courtship_!” She beams, having finally found the word just as Isabela squats down, at her eye-level. Then, as suddenly as triumph had filled her eyes, she lowers them from the face of the woman she's basically just proposed to. “But...no obligations, of course!”

Isabela reaches out and her sea-roughened fingers graze Merrill’s chin, gently leading her face back up to look at her.

“I missed you.”

“I had really lovely plans for dinner,” Merrill whimpers.

“I know you did. And I fully intend to take you up on them. I’ll even help you cook, if you’ll let me. But first, may I kiss you?”

Merrill seems to consider this far longer than Isabela had expected, and she watches with fond amusement as her Kitten’s facial expression shifts from embarrassed to coy.

“Gift first. It’s tradition.” She nods determinedly, shrugging Isabela’s expert fingers away from her burning skin before she does something Merrill won’t be able to resist.

Isabela sighs, leaning back on her heels, and peers into the pack, staring into the endless collection of seemingly random objects that Merrill insists on lugging around with her.

"Hmmm…is it...jewelry?"

"No. Would you have preferred jewelry?"

"Nah. I've already got plenty!” She waves her hand dismissively. “A new hat?"

Merrill tilts her head and frowns, examining the warped dimensions of the well-worn pack as she shoves her arm all the way to the bottom in one last desperate attempt before she has to dump the whole thing out. "I don't imagine that would've fit in here without getting squished..."

"Well, then. I give up! And now I can’t wait to see what it is."

Merrill finally feels the worn linen of the old tattered cloth she’d wrapped the thing in for safe-keeping all those months ago and smiles. 

“Ah ha! Got you, you silly little thing!” 

She grasps the too-narrow neck of the glass bottle with the ship inside, and she extracts it from the pack slowly, carefully, enjoying the power she has to draw out the eager anticipation in Isabela’s eyes. 

It reminds her of the way she looks at her when she undresses. Isabela always savors the build-up, the watching, the waiting. Merrill is often the one who pounces when it comes to their love-making, and her mind drifts longingly back to the lingering, longed-for feel of Isabela’s touch as she licks her lips, reconsidering her stance on the order of things. _Patience_ , she tells herself. This is important!

She lowers her eyes and peels back the cloth, presenting the gift to her as though it is the most sacred of treasures. Her cheeks burn and bloom as Isabela leans in closer to look at it, trying to match her reverence.

“Merrill…” she whispers. “I love it.”

“Do you...accept this... _me_?” she stammers. “I mean...officially. As your...as...well, I don’t know what your word would be. Betrothed, maybe? No. That’s not quite -- ”

“Whatever it is, yes! Of _course_!” Isabela exclaims joyfully. “And I’m sorry you even felt like you had to ask!”

“No! No...the asking is the most important part! The asking _and_ the proving.” Merrill is still staring at the ship, wringing her hands. It’s not enough. It’s silly. Her heart is a goddess. She deserves so much more.

“You’ve done the asking, then.” Isabela picks up the ship-in-the-bottle and carefully sets it to the side. “Thank you. Now is it my turn to do the proving?” She reaches for Merrill’s fretting hands, disentangling them from each other, and pulls them around her waist.

Merrill scoots into her lap and nuzzles into her chest -- as close as she can get to her heart’s home. “You have nothing to prove, vhenan.”

Isabela sighs and wraps her own arms around her. “Is this...so are we elf-married now?”

“Creators, no!” Merrill leans back a little to finally look up into her eyes, but she doesn’t let go of her waist. If anything, she pulls their bodies even closer together with her surprising strength. “There are at least a dozen more steps. And they take time. And we’d have to find a Keeper who _would_ marry us and…then there’s the vows and the rings...and...”

“Okay!” Isabela exclaims, pulling her back in against her chest. “We can certainly take our time figuring out all of _that_ ,” she chuckles into the top of Merrill’s head. "But am I at least allowed to kiss you yet?"

Merrill nods enthusiastically into Isabela's neck, as warm hands travel up her back until they're cradling the back of her head, fingers woven in between her braids and finally, her heart tips her head back and presses her lips softly against hers. She reciprocates with the eagerness of someone who hasn't seen their lover in months, even though it's only been a week and a half, throwing her arms around Isabela's neck and wrapping her legs tight around her torso.

"Did you know that I missed you?" Isabela manages to get in between Merrill's fevered kisses.

"You mentioned it..." Merrill gasps. "Oh! I missed you, too! I didn't say that yet, did I?"

Isabela smiles and it's almost blinding in its radiance, like staring into the sun. "You didn't have to."

**Author's Note:**

> ...and then they make out and stuff! If I keep writing these, they're gonna need their own series. Oh nooooo...


End file.
